Baby Blues
by Yombatable
Summary: A short Drabble in which Alistair is extremely excited to meet their beautiful little monster. ScotEng with pregnant trans boy Arthur and a heavy dose of mindless fluff. NOT MPREG. One-shot.
1. Baby Blues

**Trans boy Arthur is love, trans boy Arthur is life. (Speaking of which, I apologize for any inaccuracies in that regard, I'm not trans myself, so I can't speak from experience). The reason I say about the NOT MPREG thing is just because, although this is about a pregnant guy, he's trans and therefore has the necessary parts for pregnancy to happen, MPREG implies a cis guy magically growing a child in them, and I just never dug that. Sorry to all you MPREG lovers out there, but it's really just not for me.**

 **On another note... Goddamn it I'm such trash for this pairing right now, I should just re-name myself to ScotEng-able, 'cause I don't think anyone knows what a Yombat is anyway... that, and this pairing is legit becoming a majority of all my fics now. When did this happen? I didn't ask for this. IT'S TAKING OVER MY LIFE. Ahem, now my breakdown is over...**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

* * *

"You're so big," Alistair cooed at Arthur's stomach, a massive beaming smile on his face, "Soon you're gonna just pop right out!"

Arthur huffed out a laugh, "They better, they're a heavy little bugger."

Alistair's smile grew a little as he laid his head down on Arthur's stomach, rubbing soothingly on the stretched skin and listening intently for the tiny heartbeat he knew was there, "Look at you, you little beauty, you're gonna be big and strong just like your dads, aren't you?"

Arthur hummed happily, letting one of his hands twist through Alistair's hair, and the other to join the one rubbing circles against his stomach. As insecure as Arthur had been when they'd first found out about their little surprise arrival, and as terrified as he was about the idea of having to come off his medication for it; now, eight and a half months in, sitting in his pleasantly cool living room, with the lights dimmed, the TV playing something neither he, nor his boyfriend (neither of them were terribly good with commitment, and marriage was overrated anyway) were watching, Alistair rubbing soothing circles against where he could feel the baby shift around inside him... He could hardly believe the terror he had felt had ever existed. Sure, there were times when he worried he'd be a bad father, but Alistair wouldn't let him have any of that.

"I bet you're gonna be beautiful, I'm gonna take one look at you and I'm gonna fall in love all over again."

Arthur felt his heart attempt to wiggle about with joy, but with the current compression of his organs all it managed was an excited whoop and a slight squeeze.

"Artie's in trouble, he's gonna get absolutely no attention once Daddy's got his little baby girl, or boy, or both, or neither."

Arthur chuckled, "Good boy."

"I've gotta be inclusive," Alistair grinned back, "Don't want our little monster to feel out of place."

A warm smile spread over Arthur's face, "We certainly can't have that."

Alistair's smile morphed from a grin to something gentler, and he leaned up and over Arthur's bulge of a stomach to press a quick and light kiss to his forehead, "I love you," he said, nuzzling Arthur's messy blonde hair, "I'm so glad you decided to keep them."

"I couldn't give them up, not when I saw how happy you were."

Alistair smiled sadly, "I just know how unco-"

Arthur halted him with a kiss, "A few months of feeling a bit uncomfortable in my skin is completely worth it," He said, nuzzling up to the red-head, "Our little monster is going to be amazing."

"You promise?"

Arthur laughed, "You ask me this every other day, the answer's always 'yes'. And don't you think it's a little late to be having second thoughts now?"

Alistair let out a short breath of laughter though his nose, "I suppose, I mean we've already painted the baby's room."

Arthur hummed, "I still hate that colour."

"Why? What have you got against green?"

"Green, as in fresh grass, I have no problem with, the shade you picked out is more like fresh bogeys."

"You have no taste. It's the pregnancy, it's clouding your brain. Anyway, which one of us is doing all the painting?"

"Which one of us is carrying the bloody baby?"

Alistair gasped dramatically, "Such language around our little bundle of joy!" he crouched down to coo at Arthur's stomach again, making Arthur roll his eyes but laugh happily, "Don't worry baby, Daddy will protect you from Daddy's awful language."

"You're unbelievable."

"You're having a baby!"

The excited and thoroughly un-manly squeal of excitement that Alistair let out had Arthur laughing again, "I've been having said baby for eight and a half months."

Alistair giggled excitedly, "I know! Two weeks and we'll get to see our little monster for the first time!"

"Yes, but right now our little monster is still inside Daddy, so Daddy should run a bath, because Daddy's back is killing him."

Alistair chuckled, "Right away, my dear, you want a back rub with that?"

Arthur sighed out a smile at the thought, "That would be amazing, you wonderful man."

Alistair smiled, "Anything for you, darling."

Arthur scoffed, "Don't push it."

A heavy chuckle followed Alistair from the room, and as Arthur sat in the living room, running a hand over his stomach, the TV casting a dim light over him as he waited for his sweet and amazing boyfriend to run him a bath, he couldn't help but think that there was nowhere he'd rather be in his life than this. Well, that is until three weeks later, when he'd be sitting in the same place in the same way, but with his little monster fast asleep in his arms, and his boyfriend fast asleep on his shoulder, and even though he hadn't slept in almost a full two days, he had never been happier in his life.


	2. I Kinda Sorta

**AND NOW FOR THE SEQUEL NOBODY ASKED FOR.**

 **I like this AU, it's cute, and I've been meaning to write another drabble for it, and then I never got around to it, but you'd be amazed what can come out of procrastination, so now you have this.**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

* * *

He'd somehow lost the baby.

Now, he wasn't sure exactly _how_ he'd lost the baby.

But be was one-hundred percent sure that Arthur was going to tan his hide for losing the baby.

Long story short, he had to _find_ the baby.

"Archie!" he called, receiving no response, which he knew he wouldn't, but that was irrelevant right now. "Archie! Come on, little monster, where are you?"

Once again. No response.

Well fuck him with a barge pole, this was ridiculous, he must have checked everywhere but-

 _Wait a minute!_

He rather quickly rushed to the garage, glancing around desperately for a moment before sighing a heavy breath of relief. Inside, curled in the cat bed by the door, was his almost two year old son, sleeping without a care in the bloody world. As if he _hadn't_ just tried extremely hard to give his dad a heart attack.

One of their cats was curled up around him, his tiny ears perking up at the sound of Alistair entering the room, meowing happily before resting his head back on top of the sleeping toddler's softly rising stomach.

Alistair stepped down into the garage, crouching beside the bed and petting Scone gently, "Hey, what did I say about stealing Archie?"

Scone just meowed again in response.

Alistair rolled his eyes, reaching down and scooping up the toddler despite Scone's whines of protest at having his personal space-heater taken away, "Oh come off it," Alistair said, cradling his son against his chest, "If you want a cuddle go and find Mouser."

At that suggestion the cat almost seemed offended.

Alistair laughed softly as he wandered back into the house, a familiar bounce in his step that he'd always used to lull little Archie to sleep when he'd been younger. The poor kid had the worst sleeping habits of any child he'd ever come across. It hadn't helped Arthur's perpetual vendetta against mornings any, especially when he had to skip tea in favour of breast-feeding, because there was no way Alistair was going to risk him spilling tea on their newly born son. Not in a million years.

The sound of Arthur returning home, was much more welcome than it would have been ten minutes earlier. "Welcome home," Alistair smiled, as he walked into the room, slinging his coat over a nearby chair, and his bag down after it before wandering over to Alistair to give him a light kiss.

Arthur chuckled, "Glad to _be_ home, work is full of pillocks, fuck 'em, I say."

Alistair gasped, turning away from Arthur with a look of false horror which made him roll his eyes in response, "Such language, I tell you, when we get a phone call from his future teacher because he told someone to fuck off, you will be the one explaining to them why."

Arthur just smiled amusedly, and leaned back up to press their lips back together, "I can live with that."

Alistair rolled his eyes, "That was supposed to put you off."

Arthur just smirked, pressing a gentle kiss to Archie's temple, making the small boy gurgle happily in his sleep, "Sorry poppet. Did you make dinner?"

Alistair found himself blinking in realization that he had been responsible for dinner since it was his day off... needless to say, he'd been a little preoccupied with something else... not that Arthur could know what that something was. Arthur raised an eyebrow, "Ah no," Alistair said a little sheepishly, "I... I was busy."

Arthur shook his head with a sigh, "That fine, we'll just order take-away. Archie loves prawn crackers anyway."

"Do I not get a say-"

Arthur interrupted him quickly, " _You_ didn't cook dinner and I want Chinese, any chance at a choice got taken away when you failed to remember to cook."

Four of their prawn crackers were sacrificed to Archie that night, less than one of those ending up in the tyke's mouth, and more than two of them ending up as little more than dust crushed into his high-chair and the carpet, not to mention his hands, and his hair, and- well, maybe they should have bought Indian instead...

But at least Alistair didn't have to explain how he'd lost their baby.


End file.
